Green Eyes
by SlytherinFlame
Summary: Cassidy and Butch's partnership is falling apart and Cassidy knows that she's at fault, but guilt isn't a pretty color on her, not to mention every male that works at Rocket seems to want to ruin her life in his own cruel way. Neoshipping. Anime/Gameverse
1. Heartstrings Mean Nothing

I. Heartstrings Mean Nothing

She never did come back to him and he'd stay up every night worried sick. She'd visit their room once a day, during the period of time in which he worked. She preferred to avoid looking at him, knowing she tread over him like the shabbiest of doormats. Contrary to popular belief, she did actually have a conscience, but she didn't much like to show it. In this world, she knew, having heartstrings meant nothing. They were just another way for others to pick you apart.

Nocturnal, she slept through most days, but not in her room. Usually she'd go over to Wendy's or to Tyson's. They understood her need to be away, or pretended to. And her promiscuity was uncontrollable usually. She never pressured Butch, though. Deep down somewhere in the dark abyss, she felt a pang in her chest whenever she saw the pain that the trail of footsteps across his back was causing. Escape it at all costs, she decided, and the problem would solve itself. Especially when her heels were so sharp.

The day she decided to go drinking with Tyson and Wendy was the be-all and the end-all. It was the beginning of the end for her, the death spiral downwards, a plane crash, a splatter against a cold, stone wall. A mistake she'd always regret, imprinted in Butch's innocent, almost child-like corneas.

"I'm sorry, kid," Cassidy always apologized thereafter. She had an addiction for making herself out to be a better person than she was. Her apologies never meant much to her.

Butch liked to play along with a false smile. His face appeared so strained and it made Cassidy wince. It was excruciating. "It's okay, Cass. I'm…f-fine…"

"I'm fine," according to most statistics is the lie most often told by even the most honest among us. And this lie was familiar territory to both the perpetually flustered male and the blonde bombshell; in other words, the ones that absolutely loved to eat their true feelings at every opportunity.

Cassidy bought this white lie over and over again. She didn't question it. She never knew what else to do. She wasn't a "people-person" and that was putting it lightly.

Stop, shock, pick up and drop, Cassidy fled over to Tyson's again. It was her haven, her getaway, a place she could feel better about the world and about the obvious fact that she was multiple times damned to hell.

Tyson swung open the door after hearing the twice-rung doorbell. "Hey, Cass."

"Hi. Wendy here?"

"No. Just me and the Fearow. And Mondo's out back fixing something, too, but I didn't think he counted."

"Okay."

"Come in, come in…"

So Cassidy wandered into his grand foyer, admiring the collection of masculine firearms that adorned the wall.

"Very nice," she said. "You've added to your collection since last week."

"Toldja Mondo had been around! But I've been collecting for ages," Tyson bragged. "They're my passion. It's a pretty damn good collection, not to toot my own horn or something." He smiled his conceited smile and subtly flexed his biceps, hoping she'd notice. "Impressive, huh?"

"Astounding." She picked up what appeared to be a small rifle. It was purple, and she dropped it to the floor with a small shout as she realized it was dripping a violet fluid that smoked upon making contact with the musty air.

Tyson guffawed and carefully picked up the weapon. "Wimp."

"What the hell is that?"

"Venom," Tyson said. "Mondo's creation. Has ten times the effects of a Nidoking's toxic attack."

"I could use one of those," Cassidy commented, scrutinizing it from afar.

"Lethal to humans, so you know."

"Even better."

They made their way into the living room. Tyson plopped himself down on the leather sofa and rested his feet on the coffee table. Cassidy stood and crossed her arms, uncomfortably.

"So what brings you to this neck of the woods?" he wondered.

"Nothing in particular. Just…a bit of conflict, I suppose."

"With that green haired idiot of yours? Whatshisface…?"

"Botch. I feel so bad, Ty."

Tyson scratched his head and motioned for her to sit down next to him. She shook her head and stayed on her feet, crossing her arms tighter across her chest. He shrugged and asked, "What for?"

"He cares a lot more for me than I do for him."

Tyson nodded. "That's a well-known fact. The kid's nuts for you."

"Mhm. I don't…I don't know what to do. And I'm stuck with him. It's such a bad situation. Awkward. Itchy."

"So lose the partner," Tyson suggested. "Ride solo like I do. Better yet, be my partner."

"No thanks," Cassidy politely declined.

"No big. But get it together, alright? Can't have the two of you mopin' around all the time. Then again, that kid's usually got enough pep in him to light Celadon for a night if he wanted."

"More efficient than a Voltorb," Cassidy said, rolling her eyes with the faintest hint of a smile.

"So…" Tyson began, again gesturing for Cassidy to sit next to him. And again she declined. Tyson pouted boyishly. "I'm so disappointed."

"You won't be," Cassidy remarked, smirking darkly. "Mind if we move this conversation to the bedroom?"

He practically ran. She made sure to leave her knee-high white boots in the foyer so they wouldn't be ruined, and then followed him up the creaky stairs in stocking feet.


	2. When Even Coping Strategies Can't Help

II. When Even Coping Strategies Can't Help.

It was by no means a coping strategy, Cassidy thought, to wake up next to a naked man—scratch that, a naked _person_ whenever she felt the slightest bit of stress the night before. Drunk on anxiety? Possibly. Normal human beings did not do something so tragically dramatic and tragically stupid to force their minds out of focus. She was better off wasting away on some psychedelic drug. But Cassidy's mind was always altered by this tugging stress, judgment sufficiently clouded, and so regrettable decisions made over and over. She would by no means inform Butch of this particular incident if she didn't have to.

She slipped out of Tyson's room at five in the morning, snatched her clothes from the floor and sloppily threw them on. He was a heavy sleeper. She tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen and pressed her lips, still smeared from the lipstick she applied three hours earlier, to a napkin. She left this on the table as a goodbye note as she slowly exited his sizable manor, rolling out the gravel driveway in her silver Honda Civic.

She had specific procedures for when this occurred, all set in her gray matter. Was it a bad sign that she knew which creaky floorboards to step over on the way out?

The clock in her car read six AM after about forty-five minutes of driving and she yawned loudly. She needed to be back to Saffron by seven so that she could shower and reassemble herself before Butch returned from his graveyard shift at eight. She cursed herself for not waking earlier, but she truly had been totally exhausted.

She refused to look Butch in the eyes after this. She never did come back that night. She could mess up the sheets in the room all she wanted, but he would know. He always did. She realized he was not stupid, of course. He could draw conclusions.

She pulled into the Rocket Base parking lot at five after seven. Butch's space was empty. For a moment, she felt the sweet sensation of relief, but she had to hurry for this sensation to last.

She slammed her key into the lock on her door, turned it, and moved to open the door, but it swung open before she could. She came face-to-face with her Drowzee as the door rammed into its stopper.

"Wha-?"

"Hyp!"

A forest-green haired female got up from Cassidy's desk chair.

"Morning, Cassidy," Wendy greeted her, looking particularly malicious.

Cassidy did not smile. "Why?"

"You've been slacking," Wendy said, walking over to pet Drowzee on the head. Cassidy suppressed a growl. She hated it when other people handled her Pokemon and Wendy was well-aware of that fact. "You owe Human Resources quite a bit of paperwork. Oh, and I received an interesting text message from Mondo this morning!"

Cassidy pushed past the source of her impending headache. "I need a shower, Wendy. You have to leave."

"That can wait. I want to hear about last night. That's the third one-nighter with Tyson in the last two weeks, huh? You two getting together? I want details! _Spill_!"

"It can't wait. I'm not talking about this. Get out before I tell Drowzee to use Psychic."

"Fine. But I'm calling you later," said Wendy, grabbing her handbag and pulling out her PokeGear. "I'll just ask Mondo for all the juicy extras!"

What a nightmare.

"Get out," Cassidy repeated, her voice turning murderous.

Wendy scurried out and Cassidy closed the door, clicking both locks and returning Drowzee to the comfort of his Pokeball. She showered, dressed herself in a fresh black uniform with the Rocket logo in bright red across the chest, and set out to dry her hair a bit before rushing out again. The clock now read seven thirty-five AM. It seemed like later than that to her, but she shrugged and plugged in the hairdryer.

She was brushing out her wet bangs with a fine bristle brush when the lock clicked again, however, due to the loudness out of hot hair rushing to her scalp, she didn't hear it. The door opened and closed. Cassidy then felt a tapping on her shoulder and jumped, sending the silver hairdryer to the floor with a loud thump and the plug was yanked from the electrical socket by the forces of gravity.

"Oh! Biff!"

"Cassidy…?"

"I-I wasn't expecting you back so early!"

"Early? B-but…I'm right on time!"

Cassidy gave him a look. Butch shrank back.

"It's twenty of. You're not off until at least eight…" Cassidy said.

"That clock's b-broken, remember…?"

Cassidy pinched the bridge of her nose between her finger and thumb. "How could I forget that?"

"D-dunno…" Butch stammered, loosening the tight collar of his Rocket field uniform. "But…I-I'm glad you're here…"

The overbearing, tremendous guilt…she hated him for its corrosive properties. And she was about to open her mouth when she heard three loud beeps.

"…Oh! That's my G-gear!" Butch hastily pulled the custom Team Rocket black and red PokeGear out of his pocket and checked the display screen. "Text…from Wendy!"

Cassidy's stomach dropped. She felt a wave of nausea coming and she swallowed it back, realizing it wasn't bile, but a tsunami of immediate regret. She snatched the Gear from him before he could read it.

"Wha-?"

"It's rude to read a text in the middle of a conversation, Butcher."

"R-right…"

She hated how he always submitted to her power. Or maybe it was just her femininity. A pair of perky breasts could get a girl far, Cassidy knew all too well. She took advantage of this truth on many an occasion.

"Wendy is a whore, anyway," Cassidy spat, almost smiling at the hypocrisy of her statement.

Butch flushed. "Where…where were y-you yesterday?" He sounded anxious-going-on-obsessed, but at least concerned. He bit his lip as Cassidy thought for a moment. Add to the on-going list of horrible fibs or watch the kid fall apart like a house of cards in the wind?

"Shooting range with Raticate," she blurted.

"Oh…that's good. S-see, I thought you went to—"

"Tyson's?" Cassidy finished the question, stupidly. Butch raised an eyebrow.

Cassidy sighed. "I may have been there, too. In fact, I'm thinking about heading back now."

Butch's face heavily betrayed his total disappointment.


	3. He Misses You

III. He Misses You.

"This is so _scandaloussss_!" Wendy exclaimed as she and Cassidy sauntered out of the gym, sweating profusely, towels around their necks. Cassidy wanted to have a mindblowing workout session and Wendy agreed to accompany her.

"Not really," Cassidy said. She tossed the damp towel into the laundry basket upon entering the women's changing room.

"I could place betting odds on all this stuff back in my cubicle! A love triangle…and just who will get the girl?"

"No one will get me. I'm not competing on _'Bachelorette'_ for Arceus' sakes! I'm better off by myself anyway. And it's only Tyson and Butch."

"They're not the only ones. You're gorgeous, Cass. Every straight guy around here would gladly take you without second thought. I'd be jealous except—"

"Except you're a raging, skirt-chasing dyke. I know. And I know about what guys say about me in their locker room. Disgusting. I can do better than any of that."

Wendy stripped off her tank top. No shame whatsoever. "Guys are idiots, aren't they? Women are so much more—"

"No! I'm heterosexual, Wendy. Just saying."

Wendy faked her disappointment, giving Cassidy her best puppy dog eyes. "A girl can dream. And you're only heterosexual when you're sober. I would know."

"You're ridiculous. By the way, I hate you," Cassidy said, grabbing shampoo and conditioner out of her duffel bag.

"For what?"

"Sending Butch that text, you gossip whore."

Wendy smirked. "Who, me? He deserved to know! And he was bound to find out eventually. There aren't any secrets around here."

"Because you tell them all! But, whatever. You're not taking a shower?"

"No, unless you wanted me to come in with y—"

"_Wendy_!"

"I'm joking! Calm your tits. But I was only spotting you back there half the time so I'm not too stinky. I'm late for something, though. I ought to skedaddle."

"Late?"

"I got myself a hot date."

Cassidy narrowed her eyes as Wendy rolled pantyhose up her slender legs. "Who's the lucky chick?"

"Petrel."

"He's a _dude_. I thought the goatee would have given it away."

"We made a bet. He's convinced he can turn me onto guys and I'm just humoring him. But I get a free dinner out of it, so I figured it would be worth suffering through for free food."

"You are such a slut."

Wendy zipped up her pencil skirt and ran a hand through her short bob. "We'll see. You going over to Ty's again tonight?"

"I don't know. I'm considering it."

"I bet Butch wouldn't mind if you stuck around for one night. He misses you. And it's his day off…"

"How do you—"

"Human Resources!" Wendy winked. "Seriously, though. Go see him. It'll be good for you." She started to walk out the door, but then turned around and said, "Oh! And don't forget, I want that paperwork faxed to me by Monday or it's your ass out on display to the rest of Rocket. I know all your secrets!" She giggled mischievously and then left.

Cassidy cursed and trudged over to the showers, considering for a moment, the consequences of drowning herself in the stream of warm, clean water and shampoo suds.


	4. Corners and Consequences

**IV. Corners and Consequences **

"Coming over tonight, babe?"

Cassidy could imagine Tyson licking his lips and he asked her this. Her stomach churned. She gripped her PokeGear harder so it wouldn't drop from her weak, trembling hand. "No. Not tonight."

"Why not?"

Cassidy struggled to come up with a plausible reason. "I'm…trying to limit myself."

Tyson snorted. "You can't overdo sex, babe. Even pregnant ladies will—"

"Shut up. I don't feel well anyway," Cassidy snapped. Her involuntary temper was at it again. "And I'm not yours so don't even get into the delusion that I'll always come back!"

She hung up, fuming, fell back against the wall of the third floor lounge, furiously rubbing her temples in an attempt to relieve what she could already tell was going to be a horrendous migraine. She heard a snerk from the doorway. All too familiar… She didn't even need to glance up to diagnose the source of it.

"What do you want, Proton?"

Proton stepped into the room and rested his gloved hands on his hips. He smirked evilly. "You ought to address me with more respect, Miss Cassidy. I am your superior, after all."

"Don't remind me," Cassidy grimaced, lifting her head from her hands to shoot him a look. He was the last person she wanted to see her like this. "And you're absolutely psychotic if you think I'll start calling you 'sir.' It'll never happen!"

Proton smirked and sauntered closer. "You're feisty, aren't you? And I hear you're quite the little skank, too…"

"What-?"

"Everyone knows about Tyson. Wendy texted me."

Cassidy clenched her fists and made a mental note to self to strangle Wendy the next time she saw her.

"Dammit."

"So were you planning on telling Archer? You know how he feels about relationships between co-workers." Proton's smile widened. His emerald eyes flashed and Cassidy's throat burned as corrosive acid rose from her boiling stomach and into her esophagus. "I bet he already knows, hm? News around here spreads like Flash Fire."

"I'll ask again: what do you want?" Cassidy glared daggers at him. If looks could kill, Proton would have been reduced to a squirming pulp.

"I can't simply speak with one of my employees? Humph. I don't appreciate rudeness either."

Cassidy's jaw tightened. "I'll ask again—"

"I want in."

"What do you—wait. What?"

"You want a promotion, Miss Cassidy. Do you not? Your distaste for your partner is no secret."

"A…_promotion_?" Cassidy's mind went slack as Proton stood not two feet away from her, a hand on the wall above her. Cassidy stood and pressed herself against this wall, and tried to inch away slowly. "Hutch isn't that bad…"

"You mean 'Butch,'" Proton corrected her. He was only a foot away now and she had reached the corner, nowhere else to go. "Are you ambitious? I could promote you to Elite Officer. Give you Domino's job, maybe. But only if you're up for it."

She pressed her shoulder hard into the corner and readied her knee to meet his groin if need be. Yes, she was extremely ambitious. This was trademark of any non-grunt Rocket operative. Giovanni only chose the crème of the crop and merely humored Jessie and James. But Cassidy had strong doubts about the way Proton wanted to be repaid for his "kindness" and she knew there was no way on Earth that she'd ever oblige.

At the same time, however, she thought of Domino, that blonde bitch, Proton's girlfriend. What exactly he saw in her, Cassidy had no inkling of an idea. On the outside, she was a scheming lunatic, but Cassidy realized that in her present position she was not one to judge.

She shivered and turned her head away from him. He had a hand on each wall. She was a second away from making him impotent with her kneecap. He whispered in her ears, slowly, carefully enunciating, adding just a bit of tongue on the fine hairs, "I heard what you do to Tyson… That's all I ask in return. One night. All night. I've got stamina and—"

"No!"

"You're making a mistake."

A sudden idea sprang into Cassidy's mind: the image of that girlfriend of his on her knees, sobbing her eyes in reaction to the news that Proton had cheated on her with her worst rival. Domino and Cassidy absolutely detested one another, and this deep-set loathing originated from back when they were Rocket trainees. Domino always outshone Cassidy at everything. She was Giovanni's favorite, the exact position Cassidy so desired, with a division of grunts at her disposal and complete dominance (no pun intended) over capture missions. Unfortunately, Domino was smarter, faster, and a better leader, or so everyone claimed, even though Cassidy was two years older and had joined Rocket at the crisp age of fourteen while Domino flew up in the ranks after only joining at age sixteen. Cassidy literally (and metaphorically) stabbed Domino in the back at every possible opportunity. Just the sound of Domino's name sent angry revulsion through Cassidy's freezing, cold veins. To see Domino so submissive, in so much pain…and to laugh like to cold sadist she was…

And then Cassidy remembered Butch's eyes, so flat, so hurt, denying everything so obviously. She couldn't do it.

"I don't need to sleep with my boss to move up in the ranks. I'm more competent than that," Cassidy snapped, shoving her palms into Proton's strong shoulders. She pushed him away and tried to move on with her life.

He didn't budge. "My office or yours?" he muttered into her aggravated ear.

She rammed her bent knee as hard as she could into his un-expecting crotch.

"Neither," she said as he crumpled to the ground. "Hmph."


	5. There is No Title Nine

**V. There is No Title Nine**

Ariana was sipping delicately on a mug of coffee. She sat at her mahogany desk, legs crossed, boot heel tap-tap-taping on the leg of her wooden chair. Archer stood in the back of the room looking out the window toward the streets below, a hand to his chin, turned away from the rest of the room's occupants, other hand closed in a fist behind his back. Proton remained in the corner, a bag of ice held to his nether regions. Cassidy rubbed her aching temples, sitting in a cold metal chair across the desk from Ariana. So many headaches in such a short amount of time.

She assumed that Archer was thinking as he always did when staring out the crystal clear window, most likely about how he would punish her "assault" of an executive. Proton insisted that the attack was unprovoked, the bastard, and who would believe her over him? That was the thing about working for Rocket. There were no Title Nine law suits when everyone's a criminal.

Ariana sat down her coffee and picked up a nail file. She pursed her lips. The calculating ginger had nothing to say. Everyone silently urged on Archer's words, but he took his time, almost tauntingly.

The suspense was killing Cassidy. She knew that if this sticky situation lasted much longer she would probably do at least one of three things out of sheer, insane desperation:

1. Burst into hot, frustrated tears and cling to Archer's scrawny white pant leg.

2. Whip out a Pokeball, call out Houndour, and fire spin Proton into a charred mass.

3. Speed to Tyson's and have violent anger sex and then eat an entire tub of ice cream from the nearest PokeMart on her drive back.

"Hm," Archer said, sidestepping to face the rest of the room. He wore no expression in particular, merely one of mild amusement. "First of all, Proton, I would like to bring to attention just how _pathetic_ it is that a low-ranked female agent could reduce you to tears in one strike."

Proton looked outraged. Cassidy couldn't help smiling. Ariana picked up her mug, presumably to hide a faint grin.

"She ruptured a fucking blood vessel!" Proton argued, nostrils flared.

"Calm down, Mr. Lance," Ariana warned, all-business per-usual. "To be quite honest, some of us hope she has inhibited your ability to pass on the family name. The world may be better off."

"Shut the hell up, Ari. I want to see her dead!" Proton yelled now. Ariana rolled her eyes and returned to her nail file. Archer showed little interest.

"Why do you call for her extermination?" he asked.

Proton's face turned a dark red. He dropped the melting bag of ice on the floor and walked over to Cassidy, wincing in pain as he took each step.

"People don't humiliate me and get away with it," he growled, glaring at the blonde with nothing but disgust.

"I see. Infirmary, Proton. You are clearly in some pain. I will inform Grey of the events that took place so that you can be treated. Good afternoon."

"But—"

"No arguments. Good afternoon, Mr. Lance."

Proton groaned and hesitantly dismissed himself, glancing over his shoulder directly at Cassidy before disappearing from view.

"They fight like children. I find it amazing that Master ever deemed them worthy…but that is none of my concern. Ariana?"

Ariana's head snapped up to attention. "Yes?"

"The tape, if you will."

"Of course."

Cassidy hugged her knees to her chest, crossing her legs at the ankles. It was one of the rare occasions in which she wore pants, so this position was acceptable.

"I do not know whether or not you were aware, but in Team Rocket bases there are many concealed cameras in most public areas. The lounge in which you and Proton had your altercation is no exception. Ariana and I like to keep a close eye on our employees for many reasons."

Ariana inserted the tape and pressed play. Archer turned back to his window. Cassidy watched as the scene from earlier flashed before her eyes, now from a new perspective. She realized his intent all along was totally unfriendly. It could be seen so clearly in his evil emerald eyes and the way he stalked her. He planned it all out beforehand. Cassidy saw herself launch a knee into Proton's vulnerable groin and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Self-defense," Ariana remarked, coolly. "Not bad, not bad…"

Archer approached Cassidy and gazed at her, amused expression returning, etched on his seemingly Oriental features. He did not show an ounce of cowardice as his pupils bore into hers and she found herself involuntarily flinching. She didn't know what is was about Archer that was so blatantly terrifying, only that Giovanni could not have chosen a more capable interim leader.

"There is enough evidence in this tape to enable us to conclude that your so-called 'assualt' on Mr. Lance was indeed provoked and, frankly, necessary," said Archer. Ariana nodded her agreement. "You will not be punished," he added.

"And…that's it?" Cassidy murmured. "I'm free?"

"Yes. As I said, we will not punish you, but we certainly advise you to beware Mr. Lance. He has quite the wrath, you see. Good afternoon, Ms. Yamato."

She was dismissed as well. Everything went far better than expected.

Archer instructed her to turn off her Gear before coming to his office or else he'd order his Houndoom to incinerate it. His dogs were practically on steroids, too, Cassidy knew. She doubted if even ashes might have remained. But she finished with this anxious confrontation; she was free to text, tweet, call…anything. She switched the power on, only to find an inbox full of reminders, threats from Proton ("Already? Sheesh!"), but what caught her eye in particular were numerous worried messages from Butch.

"You and Proton weren't at training. Wendy said you were at Archer's office. What happened?" the message read.

Cassidy made another note to self to murder Wendy at next opportunity.

"Nothing. No big deal," she typed up in reply.

Her text screen lit up almost instantly. Butch had quick fingers, Cassidy decided. He must have been staring at his Gear for the past hour…

The message read: "Please tell me. Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Is that the truth?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

The kid didn't give up easily, Cassidy thought, annoyed.

"I told you, nothing important."

"I want to know."

So what? Cassidy remembered she did not technically have to reply to any of his messages, despite the regret and guilt she'd be impacted with later on. For now, she would ignore him, ignore everyone, and drive over to Tyson's. Maybe later she would pick up that bucket of ice cream. It seemed like a good idea, option three.


	6. The Phone Blows Up

Author's Note: This fanfiction was inspired by the PokeTwitter 'verse, so there are a few characters that I added that are original to that particular RP. "Grey" is the nickname for the game-verse son of Giovanni, so that's essentially Silver. Grey is in charge of the science department. Mondo is anime-verse and works in technological inventory. Anise is an OC from PTwit and works under Grey, but in inventory dealing with the more science-y supplies. And that's that. Thank you so much for the reviews as they make me really want to continue on with the story. And here's chapter six~

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><p><strong>VI. The Phone Blows Up<strong>

On the phone. She was always on the phone. Usually it was some idiotic, shallow, and meaningless conversation with a gossip mongrel about who had drunken sex with who at whomever's party, or the most recent horrid break up, or the fact that grunts started leaving used condoms in Cassidy's inbox, with the word "whore" written on them in purple sharpie. She assumed they belonged to grunts of Proton's, showing a little division pride. The funny thing was that, _technically_, she was a low-ranking officer under Proton, so they weren't really helping anything. Then again, what did she know? She had to convince Attila to clean them out. She didn't like to touch such unsanitary things if she could help it, and Attila was the least squeamish person she knew that would do her favors.

But, yes. Now her current, pointless phone conversation was with Mondo, and he was describing whatever new gadget he was creating for Tyson, and at the same time totally abusing his authority over Inventory-related projects to do so.

"Anise won't be happy," he said, with his lighthearted laugh. "But I'll cover it up pretty well like I always do. She usually doesn't say anything, doesn't like to get Grey angry with us."

"Anise?"

"She's one of Grey Sakaki's projects," Mondo explained. "She's got a mind like the fastest processor. Makes it difficult to get things by her. Anise Kaiser, I think her name is? She's very young, probably eighteen. Barely younger than I am."

"Science department, then?"

"Yup, at least, I think so. I've never really asked her about herself. She doesn't strike me as a social butterfree. From what I've gathered on my own, she's from Fuschia City, she owns an ill-behaved Hypno, and she's not someone to be messed with. Seriously. She lacks emotions. It's _scary_!"

"You're obsessed with her, aren't you?"

"Maybe just a little," Mondo admitted, with another lighthearted laugh. This was something Cassidy appreciated about the boy: his honesty.

"Cute, cute," Cassidy said, holding the phone between her cheek and shoulder so she could type up a report on her computer. "So you like her?"

"Yeah."

"Love her?"

"Ye—_no_! No, no, of course not! She's a co-worker, y'know? Nothing more. I just admire her work ethic, that's all—"

"Gotcha. I—"

She stopped when she heard a beep. Someone else was trying to call her.

"Hold on…" Cassidy brought the Gear away from her ear and examined it. Butch was phoning. "Butch is calling me, Mondo. Gotta take this. Talk to you later? Okay…okay. Bye."

She switched to pick up Butch's call right before voicemail did. "Hey," she said.

"C-cassidy…! You okay…? Y-you ignored my texts…"

"Texts?" Cassidy feigned surprise. "Oh! Sorry. My bad. I've received so many texts I just haven't really looked at them all yet."

This was a blatant lie. She had answered every text except for Butch's and the one Proton sent about cutting her tongue out like a slowpoketail. She had saved the latter, laughing far too hard.

"S'okay," Butch said, clearly disappointed. "B-but…are you okay? You weren't here last night…"

"I went out."

"Tyson's…?"

She decided not to lie about this. "Mhm."

"Did you…did you two…um?"

"Yes."

Butch made a choking sound in the back of his throat. "O-oh."

"What's the matter?" Cassidy acted oblivious. She knew exactly what was wrong, but she preferred not to acknowledge this fact. It made her feel slightly less repulsed by herself.

"N-never mind. Nothing's wrong…" Butch always had been a horrendous actor. That's why Cassidy always did the talking when she could help it.

"You're not jealous are you?"

Butch made the choking sound again. "No…"

"Yes, you are." Cassidy's tone became accusatory. She was tired of beating around the bush.

"N-n—"

"Stop," Cassidy ordered, finally losing her patient grip of remaining calm and collected. "I want the truth or I'm going to hang up. And stop fucking stuttering. I know you can talk normally around me. You used to."

Butch was silent for about a minute, but she could hear his irregular breathing.

"You…make me nervous," he said at last.

"Why?"

"Wendy says I need to…suck it up. You…you wouldn't want a wimp when you can shag…Tyson…"

"You're right," Cassidy said. "You and Tyson are different people. And I won't lie to you about Tyson anymore either. Anything you want to know about him I'll tell you. I normally don't kiss and tell, but you're upset. Whatever. And you shouldn't listen to Wendy. Have you learned nothing?"

Butch remained silent again, his shallow breath hitting the receiver of the phone and Cassidy could imagine the scent of his minty breath. He was obsessed with Tic-Tacs.

"Are…you over at his now?"

"No."

"Are you going to-?"

"No."

Butch's voice picked up a little bit. "So you're staying tonight?"

"Don't get too excited. I don't know. I have a lot of paper work for Human Resources. I'm on total deadline and—"

Butch sounded irked. "Is that an excuse?"

"…What?"

"An excuse…so that you don't have to come back?"

"No. I mean it. Ask anyone."

"F-fine…"

"Butch?"

Cassidy's mood suddenly swung. It was strange, at peace out of nowhere. She ripped off a white glove and swiveled her chair so that she faced away from her computer.

"You…remembered my name…"

"Why wouldn't I?" Cassidy said, innocently. "I'll come back when I'm done, _if_ I finish. That's a promise. Alright?"


	7. Alliance

"I hate that Jessie. And her partner James is a such a _fag_—"

"Don't use that word." Cassidy interrupted Wendy's on-going rant. She was always complaining about Jessie, James, and their phonetic Meowth.

"Fag. Fagity-fag." Wendy stuck out her tongue, which irked Cassidy quite a bit. She had issues with the word. _Serious_ issues. But Wendy—being the selfish bitch everyone knew and hated—couldn't care less, despite the fact that a careful explanation of the incident in which Cassidy grew to detest the word was lying on her cluttered desk. "But seriously, I hate her! She forgot me way back when, and I hold grudges. I don't mean to, but I do! And…argh! Man oh man, I hate that chick! She's so frustrating. And Mondo said that she and James bought more shit from inventory with Rocket money. I don't know what Giovanni's thinking. It's a waste of money and time! …Did I mention I hated her?"

Cassidy said nothing, but printed out the Word Document she had completed and waited for her HP Deskjet printer to warm up.

Wendy was easily distracted, watching the printer. "Low toner? What _is_ toner? I've been wondering forever…"

"No idea," Cassidy said. "Why don't you make yourself useful and find out so that I can finish these contracts in peace?"

"But I'm so comfortable."

"I don't recall inviting you into my office. You_ barged_ in."

"You're on deadline, Cass. I needed to motivate you."

"I think the risk of termination is plenty motivation."

Wendy "hmph-ed" and hightailed out the door. Cassidy glanced at the clock above her desk. Tick-tick-tick. Ten-thirty PM. What a day.

For whatever reason, she wanted to call Mondo again. He was adorable, she thought, in a baby brother sort of way. And she had already ignored two calls from Tyson, one from Butch, and another from a Rocket number that she didn't recognize.

Just one more paper and she'd be out the door…

It was a contract for a partnership with Rocket. The field division instigated it. Team Magma and Team Rocket, allies. Cassidy was merely looking over the thing, making sure all the field guidelines were straight and that the names of all concerned were spelled correctly. Courtney Kagari. Mack Hokage. Tabitha Homura. Maxie Matsubusa. Several high ranked field agents from the other team as well: Lewis, Zafirah, Allie, Dalton…Cassidy could not remember them all. It all seemed fishy to her. It was no secret, Petrel's extreme distaste for Courtney. Magma and Rocket had been in conflict for years. Rocket believed Magma's objectives were absurd, not to mention dangerous. Magma believed Rocket was made up of conniving lunatics.

Not too long ago, however—and this is what Proton liked to spew at every opportunity concerning inter-team relationships—Petrel fell in love with Courtney, her sadism, her pyromania, her affinity for all things beautiful, twisted, fragile and dying. They were together—or at least, Petrel thought they were—but Courtney was not looking out for him. She had her own malicious agenda. She and her vicious Ninetales shared a strong distaste for Proton, and Proton believed that she went after Petrel to get to him. It was nonsense, really, and Giovanni did not believe a word Proton said about the matter.

And now, a new alliance. It was supposedly Archer's idea. Cassidy wondered if he had informed Proton yet of this development. She highly doubted it. Archer did not like to cause unnecessary conflict until he needed to, and this was precisely why he was so functional.

When she finished her editing, she printed all of the contracts, bound them together in an accordion folder, and shoved them into Ariana's inbox. She left her office for all of five minutes to do this.

When she returned, Wendy was there, snacking on a bag of Sun Chips, and chattering away with another uninvited guest: Bashou.

Cassidy opened her mouth to scold Wendy but Wendy hurriedly interrupted. "You told me to figure out what toner is so I found Bash and then—"

"Bashou," he corrected.

"Whatever. Bashou knows what toner is, I think."

Cassidy groaned.

"Wendy, you are beyond an idiot into realms unknown," Bashou grumbled and slouched in his seat.

Wendy spoke with her mouth full. "Shut it, Bash. I wear panty-hose. It makes me look smart."

"Right."

"How else do you think I got this job?"

Cassidy rubbed her temples vigorously. "I don't mind you, Bashou, but Wendy. If you don't leave, I don't know what I'll do, but I swear it'll be something drastic."

Wendy whined. "I didn't get to tell you about my date with Mr. Lambda yet though!"

"Arceus…" Bashou banged his head against the wall.

"Okay, fine. I'll humor you," Cassidy said. "What happened on your date?"

"It was fantastic. My best one in quite some time! And he was a gentleman, let me just say. I didn't know he had it in him, based on his…erm, past…"

"Past?" Bashou suddenly looked interested.

"Human Resources. Can't tell you anything," Wendy said with a knowing smirk. "Anyhoo, we went out for a bite to eat. I toldja I'd get free food out of it. And we got drinks afterward. You know, I think he might drive better when intoxicated…" She giggled evilly. "I called him 'sir' the entire time, too. I think he liked that. We went back to his place. …Did you know Executives get their own rooms now? What I wouldn't give for that… So there we were in his room and—"

"Is this going to get interesting, or should I leave now?" Bashou sighed.

"I'm getting there! Shhh!" Wendy grinned fully now. "As I was saying, we were there in his room. He's quite the little fiend, let me just add." She giggled again. "Before I knew it, zap! Panty hose were gone and he had a hand in my hair and we slid everything off his desk so I could sit there and—"

"But it didn't do anything for you, did it?"

"Nope!" Wendy frowned. "Way to ruin a good story."

Bashou yawned. Cassidy checked the time again. An hour had passed.

"I need to get out of here," she said.

"But…!"

"No. I made a promise to Hutch."

"Butch?" Wendy's smirk returned. "Getting tired of Tyson now? Lookin' for the virginal treats? _Hee_!"

"Shut the fuck up, Wendy. I'm leaving so get out. I have to lock up." Cassidy glared at her, and it was the rare occasion that she used her death glare. She hadn't even used this on Proton. This was a look that she doubted even Archer would mess with. It was a look of utmost resentment, of wilted flowers, of fiery pits.

Wendy bit her lip. "I'll tell you about my sex-capades later. Adios." She left, dragging Bashou behind her by the arm.

Cassidy grabbed her purse and headed out into the night, thinking of disappointed green eyes.


	8. Reliability

**VIII. Reliability**

"You actually came back…"

Butch didn't look happy, nor did he look upset. His expression was middling. His eyes were wide.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"T-there have to be m-more interesting people out there…"

"Doubtful. All Tyson talks about are his guns, so you know. It bores me to tears."

"Are you in love with him…?"

"_Hell_ no."

Cassidy could have laughed as the notion of having feelings for such a lame man was so ridiculous. Butch was completely serious though, in asking the question.

"Why do you always—"

"Mainly, boredom. Or anger. Usually boredom."

"Oh. I guess I wouldn't know."

Butch awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. He seemed to suddenly realize they were both standing at the door still. He backed up to let her in. She shut and locked the door behind her. He sat down on the beat up couch, grabbed the remote to the tiny television, but did not turn it on.

"What do you mean by that?"

"…N-nothing."

Cassidy narrowed her eyes. "Haven't you ever been angry?"

"Um…I mean, I guess…"

"Yeah?" Cassidy sat down next to him. Their legs were touching. Butch flinched. "Tell me. How do you cope?"

"Cope…? I don't get angry that often…"

"Of course you do. I've seen the way other Rockets push you around, you know. Wendy's a little bitch to you. Tyson likes to shove you into things. You'll do all kinds of favors to Domino and she'll blame all of her failures on you. And I'm the worst of all to you, of course."

Cassidy stared him down. Butch looked away pointedly.

"F-fine. I get mad sometimes."

"So what do you do about it? Go running? Swimming? Breaking things? Because you can't just hold it all inside. That doesn't ever work."

Butch paused for a moment, clasped his hands across his lap, and fiddled with the remote. "I don't do…anything…" he said in a quiet voice.

Cassidy stood up and moved to the other side of the room. Unhappy. Unsatisfied. Unyielding.

"That's wrong," she said.

He gave a small sound, almost a hiccup. Cassidy thought it was a whimper. She hated that. She grew up thinking that men were strong, that men would protect her. And here she was, comforting one of the Y chromosomes she had so admired for his strength in her youth. He was a pitiful creature, or had become one. Cassidy could remember happier times, where they were teenagers stealing Pokemon together, and there was no drama, no other feelings besides friendship…

She wondered why his pain made her feel so guilty.

"S-sorry…"

"Don't you dare apologize."

"Sor—oh…okay."

"How are you even a Rocket?" Cassidy asked, her eyes blazing.

"I don't know. I joined when you did… Why are you a R-rocket, Cass?"

"I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Well, neither did I."

Cassidy crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, still staring down her hesitant comrade.

"Whatever. We're both Rockets, fine. That won't change. But we do need to do something about your feelings."

"My…what?" Butch looked utterly confused.

"I'm tired of dealing with your woes and other issues. From now on, whenever you feel something that isn't indifference, tell me. We'll find a way to work something out so that it goes away."

"Indifference…? Like you…?"

"Mhm. If you learn to never show emotion, you'll never be hurt."

"That's…some logic."

Cassidy got back up and sat back down next to him. She felt him stiffen as their legs once again touched.

"Feel anything now?"

"Y-yes," Butch answered, honestly.

"What do you feel?" Cassidy was shocked at her patience. She often felt like dealing with Butch was not too different from dealing with a young child. Finicky, easily offended…

"I—I…uh…"

"Just tell me. I won't judge you for anything."

Butch flushed a deep red color. "…L-lust…"

Cassidy's face went blank. Butch, if it was possible, became redder.

"Are you kidding me?"

"…" Butch said nothing and closed his eyes as if the world would just disappear in front of the lids and he could be at peace to rewind before he said such a stupid thing.

Cassidy groaned. "Why?"

"…Why…what?"

"Why the hell would you lust after someone like me? I'm not good for you, Biff."

"I wouldn't know…"

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"Cass…" Butch had his eyes glued to the floor, his face was now looking purplish. "I'm…a…virgin…"

"Oh." Cassidy rested her head on her chin. "Seems Wendy was a viable authority of something. Nothing wrong with that, though. I kind of respect it."

"It's embarrassing…"

"Not really. I'll tell you what's embarrassing. Losing it at age sixteen to a fifteen year old boy. _That_'s embarrassing."

"You…regret it…?"

Cassidy pursed her lips. "A little bit. Ha, I couldn't walk for days, to be honest. I was a scrawny sixteen year old, you know that."

"Who…?"

"Who? Oh, who stuck me? Hm…lemme think… It was a grunt. We were both part of Proton's division. I think his name was Rook or something of that nature. Anyway, he's dead now. Subjected to Proton's rage after the failure at Slowpoke Well."

"That's…creepy…"

"Knowing my first was asphyxiated with a Koffing? Yeah. A little bit. I'd rather not get into it, though. It was a poor decision on my part."

Butch's face paled slightly. "You could have anyone you wanted, Cass…"

Cassidy smiled quizzically. "You think?"

"You could have had Proton."

Cassidy's smile immediately soured like milk left out on a hot day. "Do not want."

"Mondo."

"Too young for me."

"James."

"Are you _fucking_ joking-?"

"Petrel."

"He's practically a grandfather."

"The boss."

"Too old."

"M-me."

"…What?"

Butch looked at her for the first time since she came in. It was a hard look, one of honesty, yes, and also one of determination. "I said _me_."

It took Cassidy everything she had to keep from chuckling. "You've got to be—"

"I'm not."

The look wouldn't go away. Cassidy thought it might be etched in her brain forever.

"You should be. You're too good for me. I've told you that. Find someone prettier, nicer… There are plenty of girls out there."

"They're not you."

He was unrelenting, which meant Cassidy had to give it all in.

"Maybe one day, Butch. But not today. I'm tired. Proton would have raped me. And last night with Tyson…I won't get into it. But not tonight, alright? One day…one day…" Cassidy yawned out of exhaustion.

"I wanted to—"

"One day. That's my final offer."

"A-accepted."

"And quit the stuttering!"

"Okay."


	9. Still Blood

**IX. Still Blood**

"Ah, the _welcoming_ committee," Magma's leader sneered upon disembarking from the plane branded with the Magma insignia. "I was under the impression we were to speak with the _important_ people."

Cassidy bit back the insult that was surely on its way. Self-preservation had certainly become instinct in the course of her time at Rocket. Heaven forbid, a team members appears as though she cannot stick up for herself.

Bashou answered without so much as an inkling of emotion. "We're to transport you to Mr. Apollo, sir. And there are some details up for discussion."

Attila cut in. "Are introductions appropriate? I'm Attila Buson. This is my partner, Bashou."

"Pleasure."

A female sporting a black bob sniggered. "I can't even decide on your gender."

Cassidy rolled her eyes at the comment. "Cassidy Yamato."

Attila squeezed Cassidy's shoulder reassuringly.

"Maxie Matsubusa," the man in charge said, with hair the color of campfire. Confident, Cassidy thought.

"Mack Hokage," the blonde underling said with a flip of his hair. Arrogant bastard, Cassidy knew.

"Courtney Kagiri," stated the female admin, clicking her custom-made lighter. Huge bitch, Cassidy mused.

"Right," Attila said, starting to lead the pack towards the Rocket building and out of the air strip. "Nice to finally meet all of the Magma people. We can take you to see Mr. Apollo right away. You may find Ms. Athena there as well."

"Excellent," said Maxie, the corners of his lips turned up slightly. Courtney clicked her lighter again. Cassidy fought hard against the urge to rip it from her talon-like fingers and smash it against the concrete floor. If the fate of Team Rocket relations weren't partially in her hands at that moment...

After all, this was the chick who had reduced Petrel into such a pathetic heap of soppy heartbreak years prior.

Bashou led the way. Attila chatted right along with Maxie and Courtney. Cassidy spaced out, but walked with the group down the depressingly dark halls of Team Rocket's Goldenrod City headquarters.

"There you see the kitchens. Right next door is the cafeteria. Don't order the meatloaf. Trust me on that. Then there're some more offices... I believe the lowest ranked officers of Petrel's division are located here..."

Cassidy noticed Courtney's smirk at the sound of Petrel's name. It made her irrationally angry all of a sudden. She tensed.

"This is level two. There are conference rooms right down the hall around the corner. Living arrangements are up on level four. To your right are warp tiles to Rocket bases or footholds in Saffron, Rustboro, and Jubilife. We call them the city spots. Lesser bases' warp tiles can be found on other levels, but these are used most often..."

Cassidy felt a tap on her shoulder as Attila droned on. She turned around. Mack gestured to a small, open conference room that the group had just passed. She shrugged, looked both ways, and slipped into the room with him, undetected by the others.

"What do you want, Magma?"

Mack grinned a cocky grin. "Heh. What, we turnin' off the politeness now? I was just startin' to enjoy it, too! Been a long time since we saw anything friendly from a Rocket."

"I was never polite to begin with! Though I don't mind you so much as-"

"Courtney? Yeah, we get that a lot. Tab and I are chill. Maxie's bearable at times. Sometimes, he's weird (but I didn't say that, 'kay?) but Courtney? She's a piece of work if I've ever seen one."

"Very honestly? I already hate her."

Mack pulled at his glove. "I know my Rocket higher-ups. Who do you work for?" he wondered.

Cassidy narrowed her eyes. "You assume I'm not in charge of myself?"

Mack repeated the question like he hadn't heard her snarky reply.

"Jackass," Cassidy said. "I work for Proton Lance."

"Oh? _That _guy," Mack replied, making a disgusted face.

"_Team Rocket's scariest and cruelest executive_," Cassidy noted in her best imitation of Proton's slightly nasal voice.

"He makes Courtney look like a schoolgirl. I'm so sorry for you."

Cassidy nodded. "Sure does. What's your other Admin like?"

"Eh...I'm not around him so much. He's pretty easy-goin', I think. He works well with the rest of us. He doesn't have a huge personality, so he makes up for the rest of us with too much personality. He's got a temper, though."

"Yeah?" Cassidy thought for a moment. "Hm. Inter-team friendliness is going to go just swimmingly."

"Sarcasm?"

"You _blonde_."

"Shut it," Mack growled. He sat down in a conference chair and flicked his hair from his eyes. "Proton's girl, huh?"

"Ew. Don't say it like that."

"He's not so bad-lookin'."

"Don't even go there, either. He's disgusting. His breath reeks of slowpoketail. I hate him."

Mack motioned to one of the cameras positioned right above their heads.

"Don't care. My dislike for him is pretty well-known," Cassidy said, and added, "I like Petrel, though."

"Yeah?" Mack looked interested.

"Mhm. I've modeled for him once or twice. Side projects..."

Mack stared at her. Cassidy groaned.

"No nude, you pervert! He designs clothes and make-up styles in his spare time. When there's no extra work to be done and things are quiet, he'll pay me overtime hours for photoshoot work."

Mack rested his chin on his arm, propped up by his elbow. Cassidy shifted her weight to her left hip. It was silent for a while. Cassidy coughed once. Mack flicked his hair again.

"You're not that pretty," he said.

Cassidy sighed. "What do you want, Hokage?"

"Nothin', really. Just didn't feel like listenin' to Attila talk anymore. He's borin'."

"He's pleasant enough. There are more boring around here."

Mack pushed back his hood, revealing more of his light blonde hair. "How's that partner of yours doin'?"

"Always so curious about Butcher, aren't you?"

"So accusatory! This is why no one likes talkin' to ya, Cass!"

"Hmph." Cassidy fought against childishly sticking out her tongue at him. "He's...okay. We work pretty well together." She was lying through her teeth with ease, and for a moment, she felt a little disgusted with herself.

"That's good."

"...I hate to say it, but I miss you sometimes, Mack."

"My first name?" He feigned surprise. "I thought you'd never use it, ya stubborn little witch."

Cassidy gave a slight smile. "I detest you. So much."

"No one knows about us?" Mack asked. His face betrayed a hint of anxiety. He didn't look quite as boyish.

"Nope. And they won't. Shall I escort you to your room for the next couple weeks?"

"Sure,_ sister_."

Cassidy flicked her bangs in a crude imitation of his unfortunate habit. "We're not siblings. I'm your_ half_-sister. It's different."

"It's_ still_ blood."

"Whatever. We need to catch back up to the group. If they ask, you were lost and I had to go find you in the freezer. You accidentally locked yourself in. When I got to you, your teeth were chattering louder than an airplane jet."

"You're always makin' your fibs so complicated. You're gonna forget all the details one day and be totally screwed! That's why I stick to the K-I-S-S theory. _'Keep it simple, stupid.'_ I'm a better liar than you."

Cassidy glared at him, deep in the eyes of the illusionist. "I don't forget things," she said.


End file.
